


Question of a Dream Lover, The

by Gibson



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-30
Updated: 2003-09-30
Packaged: 2019-04-27 06:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14419260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gibson/pseuds/Gibson
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atSpooky Awards, and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address onSpookyAwards' collection profile.





	Question of a Dream Lover, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

The Question of a Dream Lover

## The Question of a Dream Lover

### by Gibson

The Question of a Dream Lover  
Author: Gibson  
Rated: NC-17  
Classification: MSR, Scully-angst,  
Feedback: yes: good or bad. Criticism is accepted and appreciated. Disclaimer: The X Files belongs to 1013 and Chris Carter, not me. Spoilers: There aren't really any.  
Summary: In response to the Haven fanfic challenge the elements are listed at the end. Comments: Thanks to Jewel and JDS for making me write down the things in my mind and the backbone to post them where other people could point and laugh ;). Thanks to Foxcat for making it sensible in the literal sense. And to XDKS who was the first to beg for more ;), and finally to Cin, for giving me valuable advice. 

* * *

He loomed over her, his hands caressing her breasts. Then he leaned down and drew her right nipple into his mouth. His fingers lingered on her left nipple, squeezing, pulling, and twisting until she gasped in pleasure. 

"Tell me you want me," he said. 

"I want you." 

He left her breasts, traveling down her body. First her ribcage, then her stomach and finally her thighs felt the fleeting touch of his lips and tongue. She was so aroused, so ready, so wet, "I want you," she said again. 

A gasp escaped her as she felt him settle between her thighs. His hands, large and firm, nudged her open and he stared down at her. 

"I'm going to taste you." 

He knelt between her legs and pushed them up. Her legs bent at the knee and spread as far as she could comfortably go. The first touch of his tongue caused her to gasp and her body spasmed. He avoided her center at first, exploring the crevices of her thighs, the line where her pubic hair began, the exposed parts of her outer lips, and then he brought his hand up and spread her for his pleasure. Slowly he drew his tongue along the ridges and whorls and crevices of her, avoiding the clitoris. 

She felt the release inside and knew that his mouth would soon be flooded with the taste of her. 

As he drew his tongue up her central canal he tasted the first stirrings of her pleasure. Then, it was a flood as her nectar came rushing out. He lapped it all up, rolling it on his tongue like a fine wine. The vintage was excellent, and he already knew that he loved the vineyard. Then he settled down in earnest. He wanted to bring her to climax using only his mouth. 

He wanted her body to writhe and wiggle beneath his, her pleasure so intense that she couldn't bear it. He drew her clitoris in his mouth. Sucking on it slightly, grazing it gently with his teeth. 

She was close already. He withdrew his mouth and probed her opening with his tongue, there was a fresh wetness there and he took his time, careful to clean up every trace of it. Then he blew gently on her still damp nubbin and she exclaimed and her body shuddered. 

Still in the throes of orgasm, Scully looked up and saw Mulder standing in the doorway with a perplexed look on his face. 

"Scully, I thought you were going to wait for me." 

* * *

She sat up in bed, her hands shaking and her thighs damp. 

"I have got to stop having this dream." 

Sighing, she glanced at her clock- 2 a.m., and she knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Climbing out of bed she discarded her clothing and walked naked to the bathroom, the cool air in the apartment feeling good on her still overheated body. 

Turning on the water and adjusting the temperature she considered the dream that had just awoken her. 

"I can understand having erotic dreams, especially considering the lack of any real eroticism in my life, but why does Mulder always turn up at the end?" she asked no one in particular. 

The tall dark man that had been so attentive to her needs every night this week was someone she'd never met. In fact, she never clearly saw his face. The dream took different forms, sometimes they had intercourse, sometimes they focused on her, but he always brought her pleasure, and then sometime during her orgasm Mulder would appear in the doorway to her bedroom. 

Sighing, she stepped under the spray and began to wash. Her body was still over sensitized and the sensation of the loofah on her skin was almost painful. Making a swift decision she abandoned the loofah and used her hands, both washing and bringing herself a measure of relief. 

* * *

A robe wrapped around her body, she sat down at her computer and turned it on. A couple of months ago she had run across an article on online journals and decided to try one. A blog, they called it. She logged in and began to write. First, about the case Mulder had dragged her on the day before, her growing confusion and frustration with the dream, and the equally confusing and frustrating shift in her feelings for Mulder. 

They had been partners for a while now and she had gradually come to realize that she would never again be the person she was before she'd met him. Her mother had even begun to accept that she would follow Mulder anywhere he asked, and often when he didn't. The first time she'd put her career on the line for his ass her mother couldn't understand it. Now, Scully was beginning to think that Margaret Scully understood better than she did. 

She had accepted that "Scully" was her daughter's name now and she wouldn't change it if she could. She understood that Scully would follow her partner literally to ends of the earth, as he would, her. She understood that Scully was falling in love with her partner, although she kept that one to herself. 

Scully, resurfacing from her thoughts began to type again. 

She described her dream. And her questions: Why did Mulder keep appearing in it? Was she having fantasies about Mulder and another man? If so why did he always just stand in the doorway? Was she having fantasies about Mulder? If so why wasn't he the man that she was engaged with? 

* * *

<One Week Later>

Scully hadn't had a full night's sleep in over a week, her every nerve jangled and throbbed, frayed and exposed edges just waiting for the innocent brush of a bystander to have her reeling in pain or ready to maim. 

Scully's dream visitor had made an appearance everyday this week, leaving her to greet the dawn alone each day. She'd snapped at Mulder twice already this morning. The second time, when he'd asked her if she'd finished the reports from the case in Utah, she'd barked, "Of course it's done Mulder, don't I always do the reports?" 

Mulder paused, mid-utterance, and an interesting change came over him. 

Scully had noticed at an early age, like most women, that men have a certain tone of voice and position that they reserve for when they think a woman is being irrational or pms'ing. Their body language changes: it's almost as though they are trying to soothe some wild animal, their hands lay loose and slightly open at their sides, they avoid direct eye contact, slightly incline their heads and often slump or stoop their shoulders. It's a throwback to the days when man was more animal and less a conscious being. It's amazing to the females of the species that men still think it will work. 

When Mulder began to assume the "soothe the savage beast" behaviors she knew she had to get out of there before she either killed or castrated him. Grabbing her coat and purse she hastily muttered, "Mulder, I've got to go somewhere, I'll be back." Leaving a perplexed Mulder behind her, she left their basement office and entered the comfortingly oppressive air. 

As Scully walked into the D.C. air she acknowledged that Mulder wasn't exactly wrong. She was distracted, tired, cranky and irritable; although not for the reasons he suspected. Every night this week she'd had the dream. It started differently every time, but it always ended in Mulder's bewildered, "Scully, I thought you were going to wait for me", resulting in a Scully that was, frankly, horny as hell and craving her partner. 

In the wee hours each morning she found herself sitting in front of the computer, typing away. The journal she had begun in a moment of spontaneity, looking for something to pass the hours until morning, became her most trusted and reliable confidant. Her concerns and frustrations about work, her observations on the Utah case, all found a home in the journal. As the sun began to crest the sky and as the hours without sleep began to catch up with her, an interesting thing began to happen to Scully. Her innermost thoughts and fears, her changing feelings for Mulder began to steal onto the page, flowing straight from her unconscious mind, bypassing conscious thought completely, to her awaiting fingertips. 

When Scully began to work with Mulder in the X Files her world had furniture. It was cluttered with friends, family and commitments. Slowly, without her even realizing it, her world underwent a change. At first it was simple things: a misplaced knick knack, a broken lamp; a missed appointment here, losing touch with a friend there. She realized one day that her living room was sparsely furnished, large chunks of her possessions missing. Then with a conscious decision she held a garage sale. Scully eliminated all of the superfluous things in her life. She now led a Spartan existence, with her work, her family, and Mulder. 

* * *

Scully meandered through the city streets, eventually finding herself overlooking the Tidal Basin. Finding the area peaceful compared to the tumult in her mind, Scully wandered around the tourist area, finally sitting on a bench on the far side. The traffic over the nearby bridge provided a background for her thoughts 

Mulder was the crux of her current problem. Scully's changing feelings for her partner, exposed by the unflinching honesty of her nightly writing, were affecting her work. She couldn't view Mulder through the flaw-forgiving light of unrequited love. It was her job to find flaws in Mulder. It was how she kept him honest; it was how she kept them both alive. If she couldn't trust herself to see and tell Mulder when he was being irrational, unreasonable or ludicrous, then she couldn't trust herself to be the partner he needed. Right now Scully knew she was at a turning point. She either had to find a way to deal with her new feelings for Mulder and still do the job they both needed her to do or she would have to leave the X Files. Mulder needed nothing less than her best and she refused to give either of them anything but that. 

When Mulder asked her for the reports this morning she had them finished, but only just. She had been unable to concentrate on work this morning, or any morning this week. She found herself easily distracted, and more importantly...she was fantasizing. Scully generally avoided fantasizing, preferring instead to live in reality. Lately however, she was having the most lascivious thoughts. When Mulder had interrupted her this morning in search of the overdue reports she'd been lost in the most erotic daydream. Mulder's shirt had sparked this particular interlude. It was a perfectly innocent light blue shirt, innocuous. But, on Mulder it was the beginning of the hottest fantasy she'd ever had. She reached out to touch the fabric, feeling it between her fingers, silking it as a child does a beloved blanket. He looked down at her, confused at first and then his fingers slowly caressed the fabric of her blouse. Slowly she unbuttoned his first button, hesitating, unsure of her welcome, but Mulder quickly unfastened her shirt, spreading it open and baring her practical white bra to his gaze. With a reverent expression he undid the front clasp of her bra and exposed her breasts to his view. She was busy as well, removing his shirt and reaching for the opening to his pants. 

When Mulder interrupted this passionate encounter, her fantasy Mulder was slowly, ever-so-slowly entering her. Lingering over every thrust, dragging his body across hers, reveling over every new sensation, Mulder was bringing her to the edge. And then reality intruded and she was left dangling on the brink of the precipice she had been begging to leap over. Her fantasies were becoming so vivid that she found herself relieving reliving the scenarios each evening with her dream lover. He would do all the things she had only imagined, taking her to climax, and as she found her herself trembling in his arms, she would look up and see Mulder in the doorway. 

* * *

As she walked back to the F.B.I. Building Scully took a firm grip on her emotions. She loved Mulder, but not enough to leave him. Therefore, she would have to find a way to be the partner he knew and the woman she was discovering at the same time. 

She consigned her dreams of their future to the unread pages of her journal. It was the simple things she wanted. She wanted to see to his face illuminated by the glow from his ill-fated fish tank, framed by the black leather of his couch. She wanted to sleep on that couch with him, lying on top of him, running her hands across his body as his heartbeat sang her to sleep. She wanted the freedom and the right to touch him whenever she wanted, kissing him, holding his hand. 

* * *

Mulder, worried and bewildered looked up as she entered the office, "Scully where have you been? It's been three hours." 

When she didn't answer he added, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have nagged you about the reports." 

"Mulder, it's okay," Scully replied, her facade of normality perfectly in place. "It was just an errand I had to run; my whole life doesn't revolve around you." The joking in her voice clued him that things were back to normal. And the voice that exclaimed "Liar" in her head was heard only by her. 

Author's notes: 

The challenge elements: 

  * Mulder, Scully or Skinner offering constructive criticism 
  * A Journal (preferably a blog) 
  * Something slashy 
  * Mulder's fishtank 
  * A bridge, the game of bridge, or Omar Sharif. Your choice 



*An additional note on challenge elements- I took liberties. Sorry. 

I hope you enjoyed this and thanks for sticking through to the end. Feedback is cherished, nourished and helped to grow   
  


#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Gibson


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